I.m in southern Peru, flying over the Nazca lines.

Below me, after the whale and the monkey, the hummingbird comes
into view, flutters and unfolds her wings, stretches forward her
delicate
beak towards some imaginary flower. Then we turn hard right,
pursued
by our own tiny shadow as we cross the bleak scar of the PanAmerican
highway, and follow a trajectory that brings us over the fabulous
snakenecked
.Alcatraz.: a heron 900 feet long conceived in the mind of a
master geometer. We circle around, cross the highway for a second
time,
pass an astonishing arrangement of fish and triangles laid out
beside a
pelican, turn left and find ourselves floating over the sublime image
of a
giant condor with feathers extended in stylized flight